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Convention Crashing
Uptown - Pz-Zazz These days, the only real difference between Uptown Pz-Zazz and Downtown Pz-Zazz is that the crooks are more likely to have expensive lawyers working for them to make their criminal activities look legitimate. There's big money here, big money and ostentatious tastes, causing the streets and buildings to be an almost overwhelming kaleidoscope of exotic metals and designer steel-glass windows. The streets are sparkling clean, and it seems safe enough - mostly because those who spend their time here have enough money to hire their own enforcers. Come off on the wrong side of those patrons, however, and you're better off in a shark pit. The usual hustle and bustle of Pz-Zazz is like midtown traffic in New York City on crack. But the rush of people to and fro in the Uptown district is beyond the description of mere words. Milling about like one large mosh pit, aliens of all shapes and sizes make their way towards the epicenter of tonight's event. Specifically, the 'Intergalactic Weapons Designer Conference'. A meeting of bright minds with ill intentions, the IWDC is held annually in different locations. This year, Pz-Zazz's upper financial district was chosen as the site. Devoid of scummy merchants and half literate junk peddlers, the citizens gathered here are all well off. They're not hurting for money and it certainly shows. Six or seven independent weapons manufacturers have showed for this event, each with a sizeable following of devoted employees. Every third person or so, it's easy to spot the hired muscle. And that is why the Autobots and EDC have been commisioned to work here, to keep the peace and show that violence in any form will not be tolerated. A servant to the Orhzoff conglomerate shows the 'heroes' to the center of the conference, pointing to locations they should be weary of. "And if you have any problems, please do not hesitate to ask." Squee pleasantly states, bowing low before shuffling off to his master's beckon. Exo-Jet Apollo circles about overhead, sophisticated scanners panning over the sight of the 'conference'. As one of the EDC officers with the most off-planet experience (successfuly experience that is) he was ordered to help with the security efforts. Patchwork really probably should have been left at home. She might not be -quite- her old self, but she's close to it after everything that's happened with Rodimus Prime. She bounces along, skipping rather than walking, her optics scanning the various aliens happily, likely not too worried about much of anything at the moment. Being an exo-pilot, as well as mechanic, with at least /some/ interest in weapons design and mechanics, Vince had been a pretty logical choice to send along to this Conference. Unfortunately, his orders had included nothing about being able to do any 'sightseeing', maybe he'd get the chance later on, to have a look at some of the toys on display. For now, however, he was in formation with James and his Apollo, circling above and watching the Headhunter's somewhat less sophisticated, but still very useful, scanners. A couple of large screens are erected at the booths, each powering on with a large *HMMM*. After some technological difficulties, they manage to get their individual videos playing. Interested parties mill about, going from booth to booth to see what each company has to offer in way of benefits and paygrades. "Excuse me, do you know which booth houses Rakdos Incorporated?" a small green bipedal alien asks Patchwork, tugging at her fingers. A minor squabble breaks out inbetween two individuals, nothing of serious consequence however as it's soon broken up by some citizens. <> Squee radios both Vince and James happily. Patchwork turns her head, her skipping brought to an abrupt halt by the tugging on her fingers. Looking down at the alien, it's all she can do not to squeal about how -adorable- he is. Instead, she nods. "Yup...go down there," she instructs, pointing, "And then turn right, go straight and then right again and...you're there!" From Exo-Jet Apollo , James Bailey turns to a small side-screen linked to an Exo-to-Exo channel so that he and Vince can see each other's helmeted faces. All so that his fellow pilot can read the 'is he for real?' expression on James' face. But finally he adjusts his comm system and replies over the same frequency. <> His Exo-Armor hovers down for a landing, reconfiguring into its robot configuration before setting down. Shaking his head slightly at the request from the alien coordinating the 'security', Vince glances at the little side-screen and gives James that 'Yeah, I know what you mean' look and then banks around to a slightly less crowded section, so he doesn't risk any injuries to the aliens in attendence when he lands. <> As the young human mechanic-turned-exo-pilot speaks, so his hands work over the controls of the Headhunter, causing it's reconfiguration to robot, and subsequent touchdown. "But uhh, it's scary out there." the tiny green alien replies, shooting Patchwork a 'hug me to death' sadface look. "Oh, where are my manners! My name is Tuk-Tuk, weapons designer extroidanaire and your all around genius." Tuk-Tuk happily reports, showing a toothy grin of sharp metallic teeth. <> Squee retorts, somewhat in a nasal tone and coming off as an all around ass. The occupants of the conference scatter when the Exosuits touch ground, although that only lasts for all of two astro-seconds. Before long, many are either admiring them for their vintage quality or snapping shots beside it for their social networking profile photos. SOMEWHERE, Squee sighs as his master berates him for the order that succeeds in pulling even more attention away from the booths. Patchwork ohs and nods slightly before she widens her optics, a bright idea hitting her out of the blue. "I'll give you a ride over there." she offers, reaching a hand down to let him climb up should he wish to. If he does, the medic will once again start skipping along, whistling to herself as she goes. Exo-Jet Apollo poses for pictures (in as much as 'standing rigidly at attention without expression or movement' can be called 'posing'), lets itself be admired and studied, and generally tries to behave in a professional and courteous manner. This is made easier by the fact that it's a non-sentient machine and the pilot inside is concealed from view. "Excuse me," James' voice crackles out over external emitters. "Excuse us, coming through..." The Exo slowly makes it's way on a circuit around the conference, examining booths and scanning any visible weapons as it goes. Sighing, safely hidden behind the tinted cockpit of the Headhunter, Vince shakes his head at all the aliens snapping photos and generally distracting him from his assigned duties. Maybe it would have been better had he remained in the air, and just gone higher. It would have severely reduced the accuracy of his scanners, but it would have saved him a massive headache later on. In this crowd, and with these aliens crowding even closer for the pictures, it would be hard to /not/ hurt anyone, if anyone started shooting. Luckily, though, the crowds thin out a bit after a few minutes, and the aliens go back to looking over the booths themselves, Vince sighs again and begins slowly and carefully moving around, opposite of the direction that James is taking. Spotting Patchwork briefly in the crowd, apparently skipping along happily, the young human chuckles to himself and looks down at some of the booths as he passes by, sincerely wishing he had time to study some of these weapons. More than a few of them would probably make good additions to any exo-suit. "Capital!" Tuk-Tuk exclaims, climbing up on Patchwork's shoulders and bouncing along happily. "Uhh, I'm not entirely certain about your culture. But in mine, it's exetremely rude to introduce oneself and not have the pleasanty returned." the green alien whines, leaning over the Autobot's head to look at her upside down. There goes the sadface look. After the initial commotion surrounding the Exosuits has passed, the citizens and interested applicants go back about their business. The hustle and bustle of the areas resume and it's just as it should be... HIGH ABOVE the scene below, just a tad bit from atmosphere lurks a aircraft of terran design. And lurk it does, slowly propelling itself forward to prevent drifting from the spot. <> the Decepticon muses to himself, laughing manically. And in an astro-second, the nose of the F-16 points downward and it rockets toward the ground and the conference. Patchwork ohs and grins before she gently judges Tuk-Tuk's face out of her way. "I'm Patchwork...I'm sorry. I didn't even think about that...it's rude in mine too, but I forget things sometimes..." She pauses a moment, and then shrugs. "But it's fixed now, so its nothing to worry about. It's nice to meet you Tuk Tuk, what are you?" Totally unaware of the lurking F-16 high above, Vince is looking at a display at one of the booths when his radar suddenly goes *PING*. Glancing at it, and hoping it's a malfunction, while knowing that it isn't, the human pilot's training and instincts kick in and he hefts the large machine gun, preparing it. Looking up, then, trusting his equipment, he looks directly at the diving jet and mutters, flipping on his comm. <> Flipping off the 'send' capabilities of his radio for a moment, the young pilot utters a quick prayer and then flips his comm back on. Exo-Jet Apollo pauses next to a particularly interesting (and dangerous) looking display. Inside, James fiddles with a tactical screen. "Picking up something too..." he murmurs over the open EDC channel. "Maybe we should go check it out. You take the lead, Vince. I'll cover you." Touching a few controls, he then opens a radio frequency to Patchwork. <> "Tuk-Tuk is Tuk-Tuk!" the alien replies, that same toothy grin again. It seems some concepts evade even the brightest of minds. Relaxing back on Patchwork's shoulders, he points to one or two of the screens displaying a particular new weapon modulation. "See, Tuk-Tuk do that!" Squee approaches James Bailey's exosuit, a flushed look on his already red skintone and head hung in shame. "Excuse me sir, you are the ranking officer correct? My lord would like a moment of your time." he asks, head looking at his clawed feet the entire time. Three of four rich brats have assembled behind Vince while he was busy gawking at weapons, spray painting their 'gang' sign on the back of the exosuits left foot. Patchwork ohs knowingly at the Alien before she turns her head, pausing mid-skip to look back. <> To her passenger, she offers, "I gotta put you down, Tuk-Tuk. I have to go help my friends, okay?" Exo-Jet Apollo lowers itself to one knee, and James' voice emits again. "That's right, I'm Colonel Bailey. I was just about to help Corporal Larsen there check out an incoming aerial contact." The Exo-Armor raises a hand to point at Vince's Exo as it takes off. James' voice is just a little bit fast, showing hints of the urgency he feels. "Whatever your boss needs to discuss...can we please make it quick?" With a quick nod at the little side-screen showing James' helmeted head, Vince turns carefully, finally noticing the small handful of youths 'tagging' his exo's foot and mutters something to himself. Powering up the VTOL turbines should have them scattering pretty quick, though, as he prepares to take flight, sticking, for now, to the less aerodynamic robot mode. As he gains some altitude, the rapidly closing contact on his radar looks suspiciously familiar. Almost close enough for a visual, but just a few seconds too far away yet, even with the aid of the VTOL turbines of the Headhunter giving him altitude. <> Guthar comes barreling out to the scene, smacking Squee in the back of the head. "Why have you not brought me the ADC person yet? This is an outrage, you'll recieve ten lashings when we return!" he berates his slave, kicking him in the rear while he mopes back. "Ah, peons eh? Anyways, my underlings have picked up an aerial ping. What is it?" The youths scatter amidst the comotion, dropping their spraying devices and spreading to the four corners of the area. Tuk-Tuk descends from Patchwork's shoulder, carefully stepping to the ground and briskly walking away. "No problem Mr. Patchwork, come see me when you're done!" The F-16 gains an incredible amount of momentum, as he's still nose to the ground and gaining speed every second. He's still out of weapons range, but a faint audible hum can be heard if one listened close enough. From Exo-Jet Apollo , James Bailey divides his attention between the data coming in from long-range sensors and the main wrap-around viewscreen showing him visual input on what's happening right outside of his own Exo. Triggering his speakers again, he replies, "We're trying to determine that ourselves. I'd recommend having some of the more...volatile booths temporarily sealed. Just as a precaution." "MISS Patchwork!" Patches calls after Tuk Tuk, before she waves before she turns back to make her way towards the two EDC men...and she sees Guthar hitting his 'slave'. "Hey! That isn't nice!" she informs the man she is no doubt labeling a 'meaniepants' in her own head as she hurries towards them. Rising in altitude still, using the VTOL turbines of his Headhunter to go straight up, Vince is keeping his exo's sensor display in his peripheral vision, and relying on his own eyes at the moment. Whatever this thing was, it had the radar signature of an F-16, but no F-16 he knew of could reach speeds like this one, without breaking apart. And, almost in visual......THERE! <> Manipulating the controls, he caused, once again, the reconfiguration of the Headhunter, though this time from robot to jet mode, and he hit the thrusters hard, hoping he'd be able to get enough speed to intercept the Decepticon diving for the ground. Exo-Jet Headhunter transforms into its Exo-Jet Headhunter Jet mode. "Excuse me, but aren't you the hired help? This is what I'M PAYING YOU FOR!" yells Guthar, flailing relentlessly. When Patchwork's words reach his round conelike tubes attached to his head (ears), he completely loses it. "AND ANOTHER THING, ring that one in or I'll have it done for you. You ADC people can't expect me to be calm at a time like this? That could be a thermonuclear warhead for all you know!" The F-16 slows his descent considerably, reversing thruster output and engaging his speed flaps. A tiny chute even pops out the rear end, a big :( displayed on it. <> booms the voice of Backfire over the broadband network. Immediately all the denziens of the square start panicing. "OR you could have left them in the air and this would already have been dealt with...!" Patchwork informs Guthar with a snort. "You're mean, go away...let us do our job. Hired help...bah. I don't like you...go away..." And then she hears the booming voice and she snickers. "Backfire? OH boy..well, at least it's not one of the -effective- Cons!" Inside the privacy of his pilot's compartment, James boggles for a moment at Guthar, then at Patchwork. He's so used to dealing with cooly professional soldiers in the field, both from the EDC and the Autobots. It's almost a new experience for him to interact with less military types. But still... "Think you may have us confused with someone else," James' voice crackles out, and the Exo's head assembly turns to face Patchwork briefly. "We /volunteered/ for this assignment. But don't worry, we'll handle this." he assures. Then the Apollo-Class Exo lifts off as well, transforming into Jet mode to catch up with Vince. Twisting and shifting, the Apollo transforms into an exo-jet. A chute? Well, that wasn't something one saw every day. Vince shook his head and flipped on his own external speaker, his own voice booming out at Backfire in retort; <> At least the Decepticon had the good grace to slow his descent so that Vince could move into a proper intercept course. Almost weapons range now, so the young pilot brings the weapon systems of his exo to life and begins targetting Backfire, switching off his external speakers, so his radio chatter to James and Patchwork doesn't get blared out to the public at 180 decibles. <> It's slowed descent does little to keep Backfire from tremendous speeds, his altmode actually shaking from the force. <> Backfire shouts, cutting the chute and closing the flaps. Adjusting position, the Decepticon manages to get past Vince with little ease and transforms in mid-air. Every sane citizen has left the immediate area, vacated to the outer rings of the conference with looks of anticipation and disbelief. Who would be dumb enough to crash this party? His speed cut down considerably, the Seeker simpleton slips on a pinkish/purple ring to his right hand right before contact with the ground. A swirl of dust and smoke encompass him in a globule, slowly dissapating to reveal Backfire shielded in a circular ball of crackling pink energy. "Now, where is the one I seek." The F-16 Falcon transforms with that ever-familiar sound to reveal... BACKFIRE! Combat: Backfire creates a forcefield shielding himself from damage. Patchwork turns, making sure the others are away from the area, taking a moment to look back for Tuk Tuk since she already feels a bit of a responsability for the odd little alien given she'd promised to hel him. Exo-Jet Apollo Jet pulls up, the timing of the move indicating it might have been in response to the forcefield coming into existence. It passes by over the Decepticon, scanning the energy shield and the figure within and then transferring that information directly to it's fellow Exo-Jet. Combat: Exo-Jet Apollo analyzes Backfire for weaknesses Exo-Jet Headhunter can exploit. Watching Backfire zoom past him, still just out of weapons range, Vince grumbles to himself and banks around to another angle and comes in at the Decepticon from another, better firing angle. <> Gripping the controls of the Headhunter, Vince braces himself for what could very well be yet /another/ painful encounter with a Decepticon. As he finishes banking around and begins to dive on Backfire, he powers the twin lasers of his exo, which slide out of previously hidden compartments just in front of the wings, to either side of the fuselage. Just as he enters weapons range, the tactical info from James' Apollo flickers across his HUD and Vince gives a slight nod to the side-screen, to acknowledge reciept of the info as he adjusts his targetting computer slightly, then opens fire with the low-powered lasers. Hopefully, it'll be enough to overload the shielding and leave Backfire vulnerable. Combat: Exo-Jet Headhunter Jet sets its defense level to Aggressive. Combat: Exo-Jet Headhunter Jet strikes Backfire with its Laser attack! Combat: Backfire's forcefield absorbs Exo-Jet Headhunter Jet's attack. Backfire paces towards the south, the Rakdos booth in immediate view. "Yes, let us see which of these fine individuals will do." he comments to himself as Vince's attack is absorbed by the forcefield, a minor shock against the surface and ripple until it compensates and smooths out. Turning around just a tad, the Seeker taps at the pink ring on his finger. "Technology, gotta love it squishie!" he laughs. His attention back on the mission at hand, Backfire opens up a crinkled oversized piece of paper with a very familiar green face on it. "What kind of name is Tuk-Tuk?" Combat: Backfire takes extra time to steady himself. Pass "Oh...no, no you don't!" Patchwork's optics widen and she starts to charge towards where Backfire stands when she hears the name of the person he's after. "You leave Tuk Tuk alone!" she orders while she casts a quick look around trying to locate the alien so she can get to him first. Damn forcefields. Vince, still with a good angle and some range yet, grins and brings the main weapons online: Twin 30mm machine guns, with an incredible rate of fire. <> As he closes on Backfire, he opens up at near point blank on him, letting the chattering of his guns do his talking for him. Yes, technology was good, but even the best tech could only last so long against a prolonged assault. Combat: Exo-Jet Headhunter Jet misses Backfire with its Heavy Machine Gun attack! -3 Exo-Jet Apollo Jet wings over and then dives at Backfire, an underslung gunpod opening up and sending a stream of autocannon rounds at the shielded enemy. <> he confides to Vince over EDC broadband. <> Combat: Exo-Jet Apollo Jet misses Backfire with its Heavy Machine Gun attack! Tuk-Tuk scurries out from underneath a table, covered in dirt and grime. "Please sir, if you will vacate the area and promise not to hurt anyone. I'll. I'll, go willingly." he states, shuffling his feet and giving Patchwork a sullen look; mouthing the words 'please'. He cringes as Vince's point blank shot is fully absorbed by the field, with some stray shots bouncing around the area. "Hahaha, excellent little one. Willingness to lay your life down for others, you'd make a perfect Prime! But harm is not what I have in store for you dear boy, oh no." Backfire cackles, moving towards the alien in small steps ... his movement hindered by the very thing that keeps him protected. Another attack is absorbed by the forcefields pink static, bubbling out again to compensate for the force before retaking it's perfect round shape. Combat: Backfire takes extra time to steady himself. Pass "No!" Patchwork looks absolutely torn as she watches Tuk Tuk scurry towards Backfire, skidding to a stop just short of the force field. She was never known as a violent bot, but.. "I swear, Backfire, if you hurt him at -all- I will personally dissect you, piece by piece, and turn you into the -nicest- autobot anybody has -ever- k nown...do you hear me? Tuk tuk, we'll get you free, I promise!" Grumbling as his machinegun fire swings wide, Vince taps the targetting computer. Even after a complete rebuild of the system, it's not quite right...And then, there's the alien Backfire's after? Great. His hands working over the controls, the exo-jet transforms and comes in, a little hard and fast, but still under control, barely, as close to the Decepticon as possible. With hands like talons, the exo reaches out, under Vince's control, towards Backfire to try to grab his shoulder and pull him away from the alien, while he flips on his external speaker, even knowing he won't be able to reach /through/ the forcefield. "You won't be taking him anywhere, Decepticon." The words, even through the speaker, which makes the voice sound very mechanical, the growl, the threat, behind the words is evident.....And very unlike Vince. But he's had enough of Decepticons thinking they're so 'superior', while they hide behind energy shields instead of having even a shred of honor, and facing an opponent. Combat: Exo-Jet Headhunter Jet misses Backfire with its Grab attack! Exo-Jet Apollo Jet banks around and then flies back in for another pass. This whole 'pour it on' strategy doesn't seem to be working as James would hope. This time a pair of missiles detaches and streaks out ahead of the Exo, which banks aside once more to avoid any explosive backlash. Combat: Exo-Jet Apollo Jet misses Backfire with its Heat-Seeking Missiles attack! A large explosion rocks off the top of the field, -almost- disabling it in one blow. For a second, it seems that way as the pink energy stretches and caves in. Even Backfire looks up in fear as the perfect sphere starts to resemble a deflated basketball in each increasingly tense moment. At the last second, the last point of substance, the forcefield stabilizes. The Seeker can be heard giving a large audible sighs, obviously reassured by the technology's performance ... especially under such stress. Tuk-Tuk hesitates, then approaches the Decepticon. "I have faith in you Mr. Patchwork, just make sure he keeps his word and doesn't harm the place after I've gone." he almost whimpers out. Backfire's face alights with glee, dropping the forcefield and taking the green alien in hand. "You all heard the guy, I'll keep my word. For I am BACKFIRE, glory of the EMPIRE!" he boldly declares, complete with a corny statuesque pose. With a tiny heft, the Seeker jumps up and tosses Tuk-Tuk into the air, transforming ... allowing him to land softly in the cockpit, the hatch closing quickly afterward. Thrusters kick in as the Decepticon rockets off. <> he jests, quickly gaining altitude and distance from the 'heroes'. Combat: Backfire's forcefield protecting himself vanishes. A shake, shudder, and shiver; and before your eyes BACKFIRE transforms into a F-16 Falcon! Combat: F-16 Falcon begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Exo-Jet Apollo Jet Exo-Jet Apollo Jet is about to commence his next attack run when inside, the main view-screen suddenly highlights Tuk-Tuk's form in blue, super-imposing a large blue X and helpfully labelling it 'non-combatant' in case the pilot doesn't get the hint. Cursing, James pulls back the throttle and throws his jet into a hover. "This isn't over, Decepticon!" he grates over available frequencies. Even though it apparently is. Tuk-Tuk's face is pressed against the glass, pleading for his friends to keep their word and distance. Then like that, he's gone. Guthar makes his way out of hiding, reeking of excrement which must obviously be his. "Are you serious? That's it, you guys aren't getting anything! You hear me!!" he cries out, shaking a fist. "Not one credit!!" Patchwork watches helplessly as Backfire and his passenger fly off - she's not a plane after all. When Guthar shows up, she rounds on him. "OH...oh just...be quiet, Meanie pants bad man...and go away!" And with that, she turns and huffs off. she has a rescue plan to hatch! His grab, predictably, being bounced off the shield, Vince snarls behind the tinted cockpit and is preparing to launch the entire bulk of the exo at the Decepticon when Tuk-Tuk is picked up. Backing off, he whirls on Guthar's yelling and screaming, and /almost/ retorts, having had a bad day already. Instead, he presses his lips together and turns to watch the fleeing coward that is Backfire. = NEST Message: 15/2 Posted Author AAR: Pz-Zazz Weapons Conference Thu Jun 10 James Bailey --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ** A rougher than usual James Bailey report. Over audio you can make out the background noise of an FTL shuttle. ** EDC Corporal Larsen, Autobot Patchwork and I responding to a last-minute 'request' for EDC and Autobots to provide neutral security at an Intergalactic Weapons Conference. Strictly small-time, but the event was crashed by the Decepticon Backfire. He had an unknown object that produced fully functional forcefields, rendering him immune to initial attacks. Despite our advice, an alien weapons designer named 'Tuk-Tuk' voluntarily surrendered to Backfire to prevent further fighting. Backfire departed with his hostage. We are in the process of tracking him, but with the lead he has he will most likely be able to escape. For now. -- Col. Bailey